


Shattered Lineage

by thenonsenseprophet (ProfessionalCouchPotato)



Series: Ahsoka Displaced [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Aftermath of Active Warzone, Gen, Heavy Angst, death of children, mentions of child soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29640234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessionalCouchPotato/pseuds/thenonsenseprophet
Summary: In the end, all it is is horribly sad.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano
Series: Ahsoka Displaced [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164395
Kudos: 18





	Shattered Lineage

**Author's Note:**

> Day six: cats are not nicer than people, but they don't talk back either
> 
> AGAIN: please read the tags for this one, and let me know if I missed any.

For the second time in as many attempts, Ahsoka’s chosen door opens onto a battlefield. This scene like the last is gruesome, and somehow,  _ worse. _

Where the battle she had found Wolffe at had evidence of heavy imperial losses, this one shows evidence of not so much as as a plasteel wrist guard. There is nothing but rubble and a slew of discarded bodies as far as she can see. 

Worst of all is the size of some of the bodies. Despite every corpse in sight being armed to the teeth and heavily armored, the youngest face among the dead cannot be over five years of age. 

Ahsoka picks her way across the carnage, pressing closed every empty pair of eyes she stumbles across, and marveling at the sheer waste of it all. Yes, it is important to fight for what is right, and for your way of life, but this… this is sickening. 

In the shell-shocked quiet of the ruined, nameless town, Ahsoka hears the muffled sobs of another child.

The fear of causing a shift in the unstable wreckage is the only thing that stops her from sprinting full-out to the source of the noise. But if there is someone here, she is going to help them, consequences of a doomed timeline or no.

Cresting the ridge of a speeder pile up, Ahsoka spots a little Nautolan child, half hidden beneath a sheet of metal. She vaults the speeder, and only then does the warning blare into the Force.

Her lightsaber whips up just in time to deflect the sniper bolt aimed at her skull, but that is all the time it takes for the child to bare its teeth and scramble further into cover. Ahsoka is confused for only the moment she has to spare, before two more shots force her to retreat as well.

There are three more pings, dangerously close to where she had ducked away, and then nothing. Ahsoka’s eyes dart from side to side, absolutely certain that either one of two things will happen. Either enemy combatants are forming a perimeter around her at this very moment, or--

“Jedi soldier,” comes a voice, and her hearing must still be off from the sniper bolts, because it sounds very young, “State your business.”

“I am not a Jedi,” Ahsoka shouts back. “I was merely trying to provide aid in the wake of the conflict.”

There is a lengthy pause. Then, the same voice says, “State your allegiance.”

“Neutral,” she calls.

Another pause, this one even longer than the first. A sense of restlessness seeps into the Force, and with a jolt of surprise, Ahsoka identifies it as the leaking of emotions past poorly fortified shields. These soldiers, whoever they are, have learned the basics of Jedi shielding.

“Come forward to speak to our representative,” the unnamed soldier demands. “Do so slowly, and with both hands over your head. Any sudden movements will be met with hostility.”

Carefully, Ahsoka complies. She makes sure that both of her lightsabers are visible on her belt, and that her steps are even and measured despite the treacherous terrain. 

“Halt,” says the voice, when she has reached the center of a fairly clear area. She waits patiently for a few more minutes, holding her arms high, until she catches the first sign of movement in the shadows. 

A slight, copper haired girl steps onto a pile of rubble a ways above her and well out of reach, eyeing Ahsoka with absolutely no trust. 

“I am Cerasi, of the Young,” she says gravely. “Who are you, and what are your intentions?” 

Ahsoka inclines her head respectfully, inwardly rebelling against the picture painted by this teenage representative for a group called Th Young. Ahsoka is no stranger to child soldiers, in the most terrible way, and perhaps that is why the idea of an armada of children sits ill with her. Her mind wanders back to the bodies on the rubble, and then pointedly away again. 

“I am Ashla, and I serve the victims of war. I have no intention of getting involved in this conflict.”

A shadow passes across the young woman’s face, but it is gone as quickly as it had appeared. 

“You wield lightsabers,” she observes. Ahsoka nods, wishing she could have avoided revealing that particular fact. “Are you in any way affiliated with the Jedi Temple of Coruscant?”

It is an odd enough question that Ahsoka hesitates before slowly shaking her head. Cerasi’s eyes narrow, and the barrel of the rifle she carries, easily her own height, comes up to point at Ahsoka’s center of mass. 

“If I told you I know that to be a lie, would your answer change?”

“No,” Ahsoka says, now truly baffled. “I carry the weapons of a Jedi, but I severed my ties with them well into my own youth.”  _ I was barely older than you must be, _ she does not add. 

Cerasi’s eyelids twitch and there is a whisper of something in the Force, but it dissipates before Ahsoka can identify it. But, ever so slowly, the rifle is lowered.

“You claim to be neutral,” Cerasi says suddenly, and the atmosphere shifts as uneasily as a living thing. “And yet you have seen the havoc caused by these wars. First the Melida against the Daan, and now both united against their own children.” This last is spat bitterly, and Ahsoka nearly jumps at the swell of emotions it prompts, from every direction at once. The tide is quickly stemmed, but Ahsoka’s eyes still skitter across the rubble, which must be hiding far more people than she had initially assumed. More _armed_ _children._

“How can you proclaim your neutrality,” Cerasi demands, “And thus shun the cause of the Young, when that cause is the end of this war, once and for all?”

And now Ahsoka is well and truly trapped, because what can she say?  _ I didn’t know the details of the conflict, all I saw was death and disorder and I rushed in headlong to help? _ That would not go over well.

Instead, she gathers every bit of the Force she can muster and weaves it around her own shields, willing nothing to escape as she baldly lies, “I am looking for someone.” It was the type of excuse that was only too common in these types of settings.

Inexplicably, though, Cerasi stills. The girl watches her with a new gleam in her eyes. 

“Who,” she demands, but Ahsoka just shakes her head and refuses to say any more. For the moment, at least, it would seem that she holds the cards, even if she... doesn’t yet know what they are.

Cerasi vanishes into a crack in the bombed-out remains of a duracrete structure. Again, the presence of shields in the minds of the children  impresses Ahsoka, even if their strength leaves something to be desired.

Worry, fear, determination, anger - whispers of emotion trickle into the Force as the standoff drags on. Ahsoka has no intention of hurting any of the Young, and hadn’t even before she knew their age, but they have no way of confirming that aside from her solemn word. And if the elders of this war-ravaged planet have taken up arms against their own children, she can understand how that could be met with suspicion as well.

There is a sudden spike of anger, quickly reigned in. Something comes flying out of the shadows, clattering to a stop at her feet. Of all the sith-damned things, they’re Force suppressant cuffs.

“Put those on,” comes the first voice that had first addressed her.

“And no sudden moves,” adds Cerasi, causing Ahsoka to pause briefly in reaching for the cuffs. She nods clearly and slowly fastens the cuffs around her own wrists, wincing as her sense of the Force was replaced with a rush of muted static.

Only once she has displayed her clearly bound hands does the rubble shift to admit another child.

This time, it is a boy of about thirteen. His hair is also copper, but closer to blond than Cerasi’s had been. There is... something more than that leads Ahsoka to think that the two are not related. Something about the lightness of his step, and the sharpness of his frown.

He folds his hands into his sleeves as they stare at each other, and Ahsoka’s suspicions only deepen. She makes sure her expression is completely blank, and the youngling does the same, albeit with slightly less success than her. Some of his anxiety is apparent in the tightness around his eyes, but aside from that, he is the picture of Jedi serenity. In fact, Ahsoka might even go so far as to say that the only Jedi with quite this brand of skillful emotionlessness was… 

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

The boy -  _ Master Kenobi, High Councilor, Jedi general, the Sith-killer, her  _ grandmaster  _ \-  _ nods stiffly. 

“You seem to know who I am,” he says, and his familiar Coruscanti lilt sounds so different in such a high voice, “but I have never heard of anyone named Ashla, Knight or Master.” His pointedly raised eyebrow nearly makes Ahsoka forget herself, the instinct to say,  _ Skyguy was in on it, too,  _ so overpowering that for a moment she is left reeling. 

“I have no other name which would mean anything to you,” she only says, once she has mastered herself. 

“Then why have you come looking for me?” Obi-Wan asks suspiciously. “And what reason could you give to make me want to leave this place?”

Ahsoka shakes her head. “I am not here to take you away--”  _ although, this is hardly the place for a Jedi initiate, or any youngling for that matter,  _ “--I would simply like to talk to you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flick to the wreckage, and Ahsoka wonders if that was what she had been feeling before. Had Obi-Wan been communicating with Cerasi? He had apparently been teaching the Young to shield, but could he have formed a deep enough bond with the children to share thoughts? 

“What are you doing here?” Ahsoka hears herself ask softly, and Obi-Wan turns his signature disbelieving eyebrows on her. It’s somewhat less effective without the beard.

“I am doing what is right,” he says firmly. She finds herself nodding along to the conviction in his voice automatically and curbs the motion, though not before he notices. 

“Cerasi's question was valid,” says Obi-Wan. “I don’t know who you are, or where you come from, but surely you also must see how wrong this is. Parents killing their children, all over a plea for peace in the face of a war that no one needs or understands anyway.”

“Fighting because they know nothing else,” Ahsoka murmurs, thoughts straying to Mandalore, and Obi-Wan nods sharply.

“But…” she trails off, not entirely sure how to phrase her question. “...Where is your Master?”

Obi-Wan’s face shutters immediately. 

“Master Jinn and I have parted ways,” he says shortly, and the entire bottom of Ahsoka’s world falls away. She notes for the first time the conspicuous lack of a padawan braid behind Obi-Wan’s ear. 

“You left the Order,” she says faintly. Never mind that Obi-Wan Kenobi was the perfect Jedi, and would never have been forced to do the same things she had done. Nor would he have been assigned a Master at the age of fourteen, like she had been, or expelled from the Order, which she had nearly been. 

Perhaps this was her fault?

Ezra had told her the consequences of altering the timeline, and yet she had crossed through the door all the same. But she had only spoken to Padme and the Daughter, and broken Wolffe’s inhibitor chip, which couldn’t possibly have caused this change.

Obi-Wan is watching her with an even more guarded expression than before, and she reminds herself that to him, she is the older, and therefore more experienced of the two of them, and that she carries herself like a Jedi despite not being one. He might very well be expecting disapproval from her.

And honestly… Ahsoka isn’t sure how she feels. On the one hand, The sheer idea of Obi-Wan Kenobi as anything but the kind but distant figure of her childhood, every inch the model Jedi, is borderline absurd to her. On the other hand-- 

“I cannot criticize you for stepping away from the Order in pursuit of what feels right,” she says heavily, and Obi-Wan’s eyes widen in surprise. It’s probably one of the most intense emotions she has ever seen on him. “I can only hope your Master did not simply… leave you here?”

The thinning of Obi-Wan’s lips is answer enough, and for the first time, Ahsoka wishes that she could have met her great-grandmaster. Perhaps that could be her next stop, purely so that she could give Qui-Gon Jinn an emphatic frown and ask what the nine hells he was thinking.

Ahsoka folds her legs beneath her, anticipating a slightly longer stay in this place than she had thought and to her surprise, Obi-Wan picks his way down to the clearing to sit across from her. 

“Why did you leave the Order?” the boy asks, somewhat hesitantly. It is a rather personal question, but Ahsoka reaches within herself to find the best and most honest answer she can; it is no less than he deserves.

“Because I realized that there are many ways to serve the Light. The Jedi way is not the only one, or even the best one, occasionally. And it hurt to leave it all behind, because it was all I had ever known. But in the end, I felt like it was worth it.”

Obi-Wan watches her with steady blue eyes. “And because the Jedi may be wise, but they are not good listeners?” he hazards, startling a genuine laugh out of Ahsoka.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” she says wryly, and they share the smallest of smiles. 

Suddenly, Ahsoka wonders what would happen if she just… stayed here. If she stayed with this small version of her grandmaster and helped him win this war, and then took him under her own wing. 

“Do you think you could remove these,” she asks and lifts her wrists pointedly. She is suddenly very eager to see what the Force has to say about this particular thought. 

Obi-Wan scrutinizes her for a moment, and then carefully waves a hand over the cuffs. They snap open at the same time the Force comes rushing back to her, and she breathes a quiet sigh of relief. Then, reaching into the Light, she poses her question again.

And, disappointingly, gets no concrete answer. 

_ You could do that, _ it seems to say,  _ or you could not do that.  _ It is frustratingly unhelpful, but some part of her thinks quietly, no different than the questions that had arisen during her talk with Ezra. She _could_ change the flow of events through time; now it was up to her to decide whether she _should_.

“This whole planet is suffering,” Obi-Wan says, oblivious to her spiraling thoughts. “I just want to help, and I want to keep people from dying.” He remains sitting straight, but his Force signature curls in on itself slightly.

“People die all the time,” Ahsoka offers, knowing it to be horribly insensitive, mostly interested in the boy’s response. 

Which turns out to be a truly venomous glare. “For what?” he demands icily. “What are the people of this planet fighting for? The Young want the war to end, and the Old want the war to continue, and by the time this whole stupid pointless thing is done, there won’t be anything left to fight for, or anyone left to do the fighting.

“Master Qui-Gon told me that if total annihilation is what the people want, then there is nothing we can do to stop them, but it doesn’t _have_ to be that way! The Young were holding their ground even before I began to help, and if they only had better resources, they could end this bloodshed the way a treaty between the Melida and the Daan never could."

Obi-Wan’s hard stare is fixed on the ground, and Ahsoka’s heart goes out to him. But this, she feels, is something he will need to grapple with on his own.

“I wish none of this had happened,” Obi-Wan whispers.

That hangs in the air for a few quiet moments, settling in beside the noises of the small fires that dotted the wreckage, and the shifting of debris, and the hollow, choked feeling in this place. It is the same as every other war theatre in her memory - and not at the same time. In the end, all it is is horribly sad.

“So do I,” Ahsoka murmurs. “And so do all who live to see such times. But all we can do is decide what to do with the time we’re given.” 

They both think on that in shared silence. Despite the destruction around them, and the bodies mangled under the rubble, sitting together in the quiet is almost peaceful.

The planet’s star is just beginning to dip towards the horizon when Cerasi and another boy appear. They stand far back but close enough to be within firing range, and their militance is almost painful to see. They do nothing but watch Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, and then there is a flutter of  _ worry/curiosity/hope _ from them, and Ahsoka just catches Obi-Wan’s reply of  _ reassurance/calm/friend _ . 

“Would you like to help us?” Obi-Wan asks, and that really is the question, isn’t it?

“I… I can’t,” Ahsoka says with some difficulty. The boy’s face falls imperceptibly. “I am… still looking for something.”

“Did you lose someone on the planet?” he probes. “If you come with us, we can help you find them.”

“I wish I could,” she says, and lifts her shields enough to allow him a glimpse of the conflict she feels. His own surprise filters through the Force, but he bows his head, recognizing the gesture for what it is - a sign of respect. 

“Then I wish you all the best on your journey, Master,” Obi-Wan says, rising to his feet and helping her get to hers. “And may the Force be with you.”

Ahsoka smiles softly, and cannot resist ruffling his spiky golden hair. “May the Force be with us all.”

They exchange bows and part ways, headed back to their respective uncertain futures.

**Author's Note:**

> I wish there was more in the fandom about how these two might react to each other under different circumstances. 
> 
> (Bonus points to anyone who can tell me why I used /that/ particular blatant reference in this chapter!)


End file.
